


Letters

by snarkstark



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bucky Barnes & Tony Stark Friendship, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky is the best bro, Bucky's birthday, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone also needs a hug, Everyone needs a Bucky, First Kiss, First date (kinda), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hero Worship, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Kid Tony Stark, Like really pre-slash I'm talkin' years, Other, Pen Pals, Pre-Slash, Sadness, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony is the best gift giver, Tony writes letters to his hero, dorks falling in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-11 05:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10456731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkstark/pseuds/snarkstark
Summary: Perhaps, if Tony asked really, really nicely, he could share Steve's Bucky for a little bit? Just a teeny, tiny piece?Hope kindled in his chest as he raced to his desk to grab a piece of paper and a pen. Then, a wild glint in his eye, he slumped to the ground and started scribbling the first letter of many.





	1. Chapter 1

Tony adored the Captain America comics. So much so, some people thought that he had a crush on Steven Rogers. 

That notion was utterly ridiculous, the seven-year-old thought to himself as he flicked over another page. As if it weren't completely obvious - it was all about Bucky Barnes. The fact was, Captain America sure was great, he knew this, he wasn't stupid. Howard always talked about how great he was, and his Dad knew everything in the whole, wide world, more than Tony ever would. But Sargent Barnes? He was something else. He was always so funny, always knew the right thing to say. The young Stark admired his smart uniform and his sure aim, his heart aching for his own Bucky to stay with him until the end of the line. 

But he knew that Bucky was Steve's, so he'd have to find his own. The small brunet tapped his fingers over the ink Barnes, jaw set in determination as he stormed another base and hummed in consideration. Another thing that Tony knew (he knew lots and lots because he wanted to be smart like his Daddy), was that the Captain was one of the kindest men in the whole wide world - no, the kindest man because Dad made him be perfect. So, perhaps, if Tony asked really, really nicely, he could share Steve's Bucky for a little bit? Just a teeny, tiny piece? 

Hope kindled in his chest as he raced to his desk to grab a piece of paper and a pen. Then, a wild glint in his eye, he slumped to the ground and started scribbling the first letter of many. 

*

Bucky rushed through the base of operations, searching for his friend. Something caught his eye and he slowed. It was a letter addressed to him, strewn on the floor near one of Howard's desks, close to the wastebasket. Damn, he knew the guy was a bit of a dick but was he chucking other people's mail now? There was another one close by, but luckily this one was addressed to the inventor. Same handwriting, though, he noted. He picked it up and stuffed it into his inside pocket before rushing on his way. 

It wasn't until that night, sprawled out on his unforgiving cot, that Bucky finally got the chance to read the mysterious letter. He tore it open and let his eyes roam over the page, a grin growing on his face after every word. 

_Dear Sargent James Barnes,_

_My name is Tony Stark and I have a really big question that I would like to ask you. It's okay if you don't reply, though, I know you're one of the biggest heroes in all of America._  
_I guess the first thing I should tell you is that you're the best soldier in the world and I want you to know that the Howling Commandos would totally suck without you. I mean, really, does Captain America know how many times he would've gotten shot in the head if it wasn't for you?_  
_The second thing I wanted to say was that I think Steve is very, very lucky to have a Bucky. Even though your comics make me so happy, they also make me sad sometimes because I don't have a Bucky Barnes to be with me until the end of the line. I'm not complaining or anything, I have a Jarvis who is very nice, like a Dad. But the house is very big and very cold and I think it would be much warmer with a Bucky. So maybe if there is any, tiny bit of spare time that you have, I could borrow you a little bit? I know it's a lot to ask, but I sincerely hope that you consider it._

Bucky noticed that 'lots of love' was scribbled out and replaced with, 'from' followed by _Tony Stark._ Bucky set the letter on his chest of drawers, brow furrowed in thought. That must be Howard's son, right? That raised a lot of questions, though. Why would unopened letters from his son be in Howard's bin? And hadn't Bucky heard that little Stark was only six or seven during some tedious small-talk? Surely, there was no way some seven-year-old could write that well.

Questions aside, Bucky relaxed, a feeling of content soothed him as he closed his eyes. No one had sent him fan letters before, it was only Steve that received them. He could picture Howard's kid clutching a Cap comic, not to mention the whole tone of the letter amused him. The part about him saving Steve's punk ass was certainly true. Either way, James was more than willing to allow himself to be borrowed by Tony Stark. He was going to be the best damned side-kick this kid had ever known. 

After a surprisingly peaceful sleep, he awoke to the familiar ringing of his alarm clock. He managed to snag some paper on the way to what could loosely be called a 'chow hall' (he kept telling Steve, that was cement, not porridge). and start writing his response. 

_Dear Tony,_

_You probably won't believe it, but your letter actually made my day. It's crazy to believe, but there's a hell of a lot more waiting around then those comics'll show you. Reading it was a welcome distraction._  
_You're definitely right about Steve. The whole Captain America thing doesn't really work on the guy who once saw him fall into a lake and get pneumonia because he thought a duckling was drowning. Idiot, right? It's okay. we still love him, right Tony?_  
_I'm very sad to hear that you don't have your own 'Bucky' to help you out, but it's good to hear you have a Jarvis. I want you to know that I would absolutely love to be both yours and Steve's, so make sure to send me lots of letters so I can watch your back too, okay kid?_  
_I know you must be Howard's son, I'm sure he misses you very much. I didn't know he had more than one kid, though, is your younger brother around seven? Maybe he can be part of our Howling Commandos, too._

_Love, Sargent Barnes._

It took nothing more than a smile and a wink at the dame on document transport to get his letter posted off to the return address on Tony's letter, some manor in the city. 

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to wait around much for his fan to reply, since there was heaps of work to be done, and lives to be saved. When Bucky wasn't fighting, he was training and when he wasn't training and when he wasn't training he was sleeping. In the very few spare moments he had, he was cheering Steve on with his endeavours into a romance with Peggy Carter. All that serum and Bucky still felt like she could snap him in half.

The letter came about a week later. this time just left on Howard's desk instead of thrown away. Bucky wanted to believe that the engineer had no intention to throw away his son's letters, it must have been an accident. This time he didn't wait to read it. 

_Dear Bucky,_

_I can't believe that you really wrote back to me! I was working when Jarvis told me I had a letter! I was so excited because I thought that Daddy had finally gotten one of my letters, but I was even happier when I found out that it was you instead!_  
_That doesn't sound right, surely you can't just wait around? That must be boring. Tell them to build a play park or something at the base, that would be funny. You could make all the soldiers do the monkey bars and call it training._  
_I can't believe Rogers really did that! Imagine thinking a duck was drowning. I wish that I could've been there for something so exciting. Of course, we love him, everyone loves Captain America. Isn't disliking him like not liking freedom? Or apple pie?_  
_Thank you so much, Bucky, I promise to be the best friend in the whole world apart from Steve, you're amazing! I knew I picked the best hero._  
_That's what Mama says, but I always think that if he misses me he would say hello when he comes back. But he's a very busy man, you know._  
_I don't have a brother or a sister. I wish I did. But you only need one child - to be heir to the company, of course! He must have been talking about me! I'm seven years old, but I'm actually nearly eight. I'm glad that Daddy talks about me. What's it like fighting in the war? All the boys where I live like to play soldiers, but I think it's stupid. When I learn about Daddy's work, I can see where it says 'estimated kill count' and the numbers get super high. That's STUPID. Why would you go around killing people to get peace? Unless it's someone really bad like Hitler. Soldiers are just our Daddies and our brothers and they should all be sat at home playing with their family. But if it helps, then I think I'll end up doing the same as Daddy one day. That's what everyone wants._

_Love, Tony_

Bucky's mouth fell open at what he read, and he felt a sharp pain in his chest. So much of the letter was distinctly _wrong_ and he couldn't do shit about it. Whilst the start had him smiling and laughing, much like the first, the second half made him uneasy. There were so many things that were messed up. Just to name a few; the way Tony seemed to assume he was just around to be the heir of the company, the way a mere kid was around weapons and kill counts, while even having an understanding of the moral debate about soldiers instead of the 'bad guys die and good guys win' mentality children were supposed to have, and the way he felt entitled to build weapons when he grew up. The whole thing set him on edge. So much so, that he didn't compose an answer for a week. 

 

He told the boy more stories and explained the life of a soldier (while sparing him any gruesome details) and did his best to play big brother when it came to all the issues this kid had. 

The war dragged on, so did the dawns. Every day seemed to last a year, the battles becoming tenser and more familiar faces disappearing with every given week. Their promised adventure was nothing short of a nightmare. If there was one thing aside from his friends that kept him going, it was little Tony Stark's letters. They corresponded as the months passed. He warmed his hand by writing in the brutal Winter and tried to keep his letters clean when they tracked through various disgusting areas. He ended up discarding one half-written response when it became soaked in blood. 

The highlight of their pen-pal arrangement was when Tony sent him blueprints of a plan for a little robot called Dum-E. Bucky just knew he was talking to a Goddamn genius. There were also sentences that made him want to deck Howard, but he managed to resist the urge by some miracle. 

The latest letter he sent was on a freezing cold morning, a week before the commandos were set to attempt their craziest plan yet - ziplining onto a moving train. But hey, they were the Howling Commandos for God's sake. They did this shit for recreation. Bucky wrote it in a rush, everything was coming to a head, the whole war. There wasn't a lot of time. He didn't bother signing his name, simply writing at the bottom of the page. 

_I'll always be your Bucky Barnes, Tony_


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time changes. Feelings not so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where's the next chapter hoe, you ask? Here it is.

Tony cried for nine hours and sixteen minutes. He knew because Dum-E told him so when he asked how long he'd been in his room for. His Bucky was dead. The boy was eight now, almost nine, and felt completely alone in the world. The letters he'd been receiving were like a lifeline for him, Barnes was every friend, protector and advice-giver a guy could need, along with having that 'older boy who taught you all the swear words' vibe. 

Now he was gone. There was no James Buchanan Barnes. 

There was no Bucky to stroll through the base. There was no Bucky to complain. There was no Bucky to somehow manage to clean his rifle at someone. There was no Bucky to have the other's back. 

There was no Bucky to write Tony letters. 

*

They burned his letters. Bucky knew because they were tucked in his jacket where they always were, tied up with a dirty bit of string. So it was burning, in the fire that they threw all of his things into. He knew this. But not for very long. Then all he knew was cold. 

The Asset was very useful. 

The Asset was very good at killing and stealing and hurting and breaking. The wind pushed his hair back wildly, tearing it into further knots, somehow. He slashed the tyres, and the car screeched to an ugly halt. Howard Stark first. Bucky dragged him out of the car, deaf to both his and his wife's pleas. The light flickered and died from his eyes. It was a particularly bright one too. The wife. No threat. But there couldn't be any witnesses. He smashed her against the wheel and the crack told him that his job was done correctly. 

Turning around to head for the boot, he was given pause at the tiny sob he heard. He spun around, metal fist clenching as he ripped open the back door. There was another man. Another boy, in fact. Maybe fourteen years of age. The Asset grabbed him by the throat and hauled him out onto the road. eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

He was not supposed to be here. His eyes made The Assets heart hurt. There could be no witnesses. The Asset knew these things. 

He spoke. His voice was as sharp as a blade and as brittle as glass. "My name is Tony Stark and I'm not afraid of you." He snarled, spitting at him vehemently. The Asset did not feel offence or anger. But he did feel confusion. Why was he not afraid? All the others cry and beg. The name. It was the name that made him hurt harder. Tony Stark, Tony Stark, Tony Stark. 

Love from, Tony Stark. _No witnesses._

"You must run from here, Tony Stark. You will leave this place. You will tell everyone there was a crash. You will not remember me. Do you understand, Tony Stark?" He liked the name on his tongue. He liked the name. 

Calculating brown eyes flickered with surprise. "I understand, Bucky." 

The Asset flinched and stepped back. "Go." He snapped, his body shaking. Who was Bucky? He knew this. It was in the back of his mind. He would ask the handlers. They would know. 

*

"We have to find him!" Tony slammed his palm down on the table. Not many men had the balls to stare down Nick Fury's eye as viciously as he was doing now. He had the American Dream at his right shoulder and the New Kid on his left, all three of them (okay, maybe not Sam but shut up) passionate about the Save Bucky initiative. 

Tony had been trying for years, in all that free time he had between saving the world, battling terrorists and/or dying. So, not that much progress. But enough was enough. They'd recovered Capsicle but why not add another treasure to the museum? He wasn't sure what he wanted, why his broken, battered heart was so fucking determined to beat in the presence of the man who added a tiny bit of joy to his fucked up childhood and then proceeded to murder his parents. No, proceeded to be taken and turned into the Winter Soldier. 

Tony hissed. "You will lose your fucking funding, your fucking consultation and your fucking poster boy." Steve kicked him in the back of the leg. Whatever, he _was_ the poster boy." And the best part? We'll do it without your permission."

Funny how quickly Fury agreed after that. 

*

Tony wasn't allowed to see Bucky. For now, familiar faces was best. He knew that keeping secrets was going to come back to bite him in the ass, he wanted to tell Steve, he really did. But he barely even saw the man while he was helping Bucky recover, and how was he supposed to break news like that? 

It was actually only after two months of slow and painful recovery that there was an announcement, and the next day Steve arrived with the retired soldier in tow. 

His long hair was so different from how it'd been all those years ago. It was soft now, knotless. His eyes were no longer blank but filled with an anxiety that was only slightly better. Simple clothing suited him, the metal arm covered by a long sleeved sweatshirt and a glove. Shame. 

"Hey, Bucky. It's nice to meet you. I'm Tony Stark." He offered his hand, his left one so that Bucky could use his right. 

Silence. A swallow. 

"I know. Heard a lot about you."

Tony paused, then shrugged. 

"No need for introductions then." He withdrew his hand, "I want you to know right away that any self-deprecating, indirect feelings bullshit is directly outlawed."

"Unless it is from Sir, himself." JARVIS chipped in, causing Bucky to jump and Tony to scowl. Thank God Steve had the foresight to warn the fragile assassin before he even arrived. 

"So I don't forgive you, Bucky Barnes," He ignored the way Bucky's face fell, "Because there is nothing to forgive, What you did wasn't your fault, whoever you hurt as the Winter Soldier. Never will be. So, welcome to Stark Towers. There are plums in the kitchen, Steve says they're your favourite." 

Bucky blinked. 

Once.

Twice. 

Then he smiled. Small and nervous, and offered his hand. The metal one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please tell me what you think (because I'm needy) and also ignore whatever the fuck this timeline is. :)  
> Pleeeaaasseee tell me if you want another chapter where they finally get together cause idk. I love hearing whatever you guys think about my trash.  
> L


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was gonna be getting together but it felt really forced so I hope you enjoy some recovering Bucky and them having a real friendship first, bless them. :') Romance in the next chapter, promise.

Tony Stark was the most confusing person Bucky had ever met. It was like he could switch between a hundred different people in a blink. How the fuck was Bucky supposed to tell which one was the real Tony? He was jealous of Rhodey and Pepper and Bruce, who had this skill under their belt and effortlessly employed it. Steve seemed to have a general idea, but sometimes made mistakes and then the two of them bickered like an old married couple. Perhaps Natasha knew. He didn't care much to find out. Too much time spent with women like her made him wary, but he looked forward to the day he could finally get over this and share his experience with her. 

If he was counting (which he was), he would say that the most prominent masks were the following: Business Tony who was all razor smiles, thousand dollar suits, and charm. Asshole Tony who came up whenever the genius was under threat acted snappy and sarcastic. By far his favourite of the three was Workaholic Tony, who was a terrifying breed of sixteen pints of coffee, a mind-blowing brain and determination. 

Just after a month went by before Bucky made his first big break. There wasn't just one part of Tony that was his true self, but if you dug deep enough the billionaire would stop flicking between attitudes depending on the situation and let you see that he was a little bit of all of them and a hell of a lot of attractive. 

His therapy was slow progress. The drag frustrated him; he just wanted to put all that crap behind him and despite how helpful therapy was, it forced him to confront his worst enemy. Himself. 

Bucky sat in the kitchen, fidgeting around. He was debating whether or not to visit Tony's workshop. It was one of the very few places in the Tower that he had yet to visit and map out. Knowing the ins and outs of the place calmed his paranoia, made him feel like he wasn't trapped here. Steve walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, evidently just back from working out. He took one look at Bucky and furrowed his brow, sitting down with a glass of orange juice. "So are you gonna tell me what crawled up your ass, or do I have to get creative?" Steve asked him, nonplussed. This managed to wrangle a smile out of the ex-assassin.  
"Just wonderin' about my, uh, access to certain places." He offered up truthfully.  
"Why, where's it that you wanna go?" Steve asked, curious, "I'm sure Tony didn't mean to lock you outta anywhere."  
"Mm, I dunno. I was wonderin' how he'd feel if I invaded his workshop." Bucky admitted, keeping his tone light. There was a thoughtful pause before Steve smiled lightly, leaning over to give him a firm clap on the shoulder.  
"You know something, Buck? I actually think he might like that. Sometimes, I worry he's more lonely than he lets on. And I think he wants to be your friend. He just won't make the first move." Steve answered, his answer as honest as anything else the Captain said. 

So, that was the basics of how Bucky ended up outside the workshop door, with a plate of Italian food and a cup of coffee. After taking a few calming breaths, he asked Jarvis permission to enter, almost surprised when the doors slid open a couple of seconds later. He almost dropped his plate at what he saw. It was like Tony had taken everything cool about the future and shoved it all in one room. It was fucking _magic_. 

"Hey, Red October. Took you a whole month to finally dare to venture into my lair?" The engineer asked curiously, not looking up from the suit he was working on. The brunet was elbow deep in the chest plate of the armour, a smear of oil on his cheek and the arc reactor shining clearly through the sinfully tight tank top he was wearing. "God, you're hot," Bucky mumbled in a whisper, watching him appreciatively. What? He was still a guy in his twenties, fuck you Hydra.  
"Hm?" Tony looked up, thankfully not having caught what had been said.  
"You hungry? Bruce says you like Italian, y'know, being half Italian and all that. Rhodey said this was your favourite dish." He set it down a foot away from the brunet, keeping his distance just in case. 

Surprised when Tony actually stopped his work and turned to face him, eyes softening. "Thank you. I appreciate it. And just in case you didn't know, you can ask me what my favourite shit is. I'm busy, but it doesn't mean that I don't want to talk to you, Barnes." He explained, reaching for the plate and inhaling. Taking a bite, he groaned with pleasure and quickly shovelled more into his mouth. "This is fucking beautiful." He said reverently. Bucky swallowed at the noise, turning his eyes away to scan the rest of the room. He was drawn to the cars lining the sides of the room, smiling slightly when he caught sight of Steve's bike added to the collection. His gaze was longing, he remembered riding a motorbike before the war. It was pretty shitty, it barely even worked when he found it, but he managed to fix it up. 

Catching Tony staring at him, brown eyes calculating, Bucky hastily changed his angle of trajectory and inquired about the suit. That set the billionaire off and he spent the next half hour ranting about the messed up repulsor on the left leg of the suit, waving his hands wildly and over exaggerating. Bucky didn't mind in the slightest; he felt more than content to watch Tony be beautiful and completely in his element. 

Thankfully, facing the cave was the first step towards a tentative friendship. After hanging out in the 'shop came the torturous education about anything that he'd missed. Steve straight up laughed at his pain, promising that it'd all be worth it when he got his first reference. He despised the boring history lessons, they reminded him too much of school (which he failed at). The only saving grace was - you guessed it - Tony. Whenever he caught Bucky reading the same page three times over and not understanding any of it, he coaxed him to the couch to watch this incredible film series or iconic TV show. He dragged him to the roof to listen to bands and admire the New York skyline. Tony would pull him to the kitchen, pouting and making the cutest damn puppy eyes and beg Bucky to try this crazy food with him. And when he finally got back, his head seemed clearer and the words seemed earlier to process. The genius just had this way that no-one else could master, of making things easy for everyone under the pretence of being difficult. 

Two months in, Bucky was completely confident in his and Tony's friendship and he felt like he was finally making progress with his mental state. Who he was seemed easier to describe, old wants like flirting and pizza taking priority over self-hatred and fear. It was such a good feeling that he could've cried. 

March rolled around and Steve surprised him by turning around and asking him what he wanted for his birthday. "When's that again?" He asked, smiling slightly. A birthday. How wondrously _normal_.  
"Tenth of March. We used to stick a candle in a rock cake." Steve grinned at him. Bucky laughed, not quite remembering but imagining it. He wished that all his memories just came rushing back, but that was an unrealistic dream. Sometimes things came back and sometimes they were gone for good. That's what happened when you put someone's brain in a damn blender.  
"So?"  
"God, Steve, I don't know. Didn't you used to draw me a picture with your charcoals?"  
"Yeah."  
"Well, I dare say your art skills have improved since then."  
"You're such a jerk." Steve chastised, but he was biting back laughter. 

Looking forward to his drawing when he woke up on his birthday, Bucky almost fell over when he walked into the kitchen to find everyone gathered around the table. The noise was overwhelming, but Bucky took one calming breath and embraced it. 

"Tony, sit down!"  
"I'm helping!"  
"I just saw you taste raw pancake mix"  
"Fuck you, Steve! Viva la revolucion!"

Tony and Steve were bickering, as usual, both hiding grins because they were fucking dorks. Natasha coughed pointedly and they both spun around, "Happy Birthday!" They cried, Tony guiltily put his hands behind his back like a scolded child now that he'd been caught stealing Bucky's pancakes. Steve hugged him tightly. "How old is that? A hundred or two?" He teased.  
"Something like that." Bucky snickered back, mouth falling open when as Steve pulled away, he was embraced by Tony as well. The genius tucked just under his chin like he was made for Bucky and the scent of metal and coffee surrounded him. A feeling of content settled in his chest, and he gave Tony a wide grin when he pulled away. Having two best friends was even better than he could've imagined. 

He was served breakfast by the team like royalty. _Natasha_ made him coffee, so he actually asked if there was any way he'd gone into the Twilight zone. After breakfast, he and Steve spent some time in the gym before the other soldier handed him his gift. It was a framed charcoal drawing of Bucky in the workshop, looking relaxed and happy for once. He was cleaning a pistol, and Bucky saw Tony working in the background. The picture almost glowed, just like the workshop itself. "Shit, Stevie. This is beautiful. Thank you." He swallowed, giving his brother another tight hug and escaping to his room to have some alone time. There was another card given to him by the whole team, and they all gathered together for a dinner. 

Tony arrived a little late, looking like he just came out of the workshop. He had this proud little shit-eating grin on his face and he shared a look with Steve. Dinner was a hilarious affair. The Avengers were busy people (obviously) so it wasn't too often they all got to sit down at a table and talk to one another and celebrate. Sitting at that table was the first time Bucky realised that he had a home. There was cake and quite possibly the worst version of 'Happy Birthday', though he doubted you could even call it that, and they all congratulated him on being a slightly more valuable war relic now. 

A warm feeling of belonging still giving him a buzz, he intended to head up to his room and bask in it for a while when he was intercepted by his favourite genius. "Hey, Bucky, d'you mind coming down to the lab? You didn't think I forget to get you something, did you?"  
"You... got something for me?" Bucky asked, surprised for some reason. It was still so unusual to him, having this family. Feeling guilty about the brief flicker of hurt on Tony's face at his clear shock, he opened his mouth to apologise but the other man got there first. To the bigger man's display, he already sounded more guarded than before. "  
"Obviously. But just tell me if you don't want it." 

They headed down to the lab and Bucky noticed that Tony was tapping at his arc reactor in the way that he always did when he was nervous. As soon as the doors slid open, Bucky's eyes were drawn to a big shape covered by a tarp in the centre of the room. That shape... Tony wouldn't. Would he? 

"I know you won't remember, but the first time you were down here I caught you staring all sad at Steve's bike. I figured you wanted one of your own? Besides, I don't like showing favouritism between my soldiers." Tony explained casually, whipping off the tarp to reveal a gorgeous, gleaming black motorbike. He acted like it was no effort, but closer inspection revealed it to be made from scratch, most likely by hand and had simple features that made it just _perfect_ for Bucky. There was clearly adjusted suspension to account for the serum, it was both pretty and indestructible as all Hell and it had these little slots to slip guns and knives to name a few features that he could see on eye level and with a light touch. "Tony, this is amazing. I can't believe you built this for me."  
"I know. Surprise, I'm not as heartless as you thought. Happy Birthday, though."

Bucky flushed with shame, "Don't. I know that you're not heartless. You're one of the kindest people I've ever met. The only thing that surprised me is that you bothered to care about me." He admitted honestly. Tony moved closer, their shoulders bumping together in solidarity. Something fell off the desk behind Bucky and he spun to pick it up, his heart picking up when he saw a clump of old looking letters tied up with string. He couldn't figure out why, and Tony had scooped them up and shoved them into a drawer before he could get a close enough look. 

"Love letters?" He teased, but his grin fell at the pain that was written all over Tony's face. 

"Sure. Now I wanna see that leather-clad ass down here at 10 AM sharp so we can test this death machine out. Deal?" Tony changed the subject so effortlessly, but the assassin's mind was still stuck on those letters. Something about them was tugging in the back of his mind and he just knew they were more than Tony was letting on. Desperate to ask, he hesitated.

"You're on." He said instead, because he was a shameless coward, and he would rather swallow his curiosity than distance his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me down below if you enjoyed the regular trash update because it means a lot to me!  
> They're finally gonna do some gettin' together and shit next chapter, so you're probably all just like fucking finally damn.  
> Any requests and prompts? Drop them down below! :)  
> L


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feeling like he was underwater, Bucky walked numbly to the elevator which took him to his floor. Robotic movements took him to sit on the edge of the bed. 
> 
> It took five minutes of deep breathing to work up the courage to open the first letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this fluff (troll, enjoy your heartbreak) *ominous music*

This, Bucky decided, was not at all a bad place to be. It certainly wasn't anything that he'd ever imagined and _certainly_ not something that he'd dared dream. 

The motorbike sped along the narrow, country roads, the wind reducing his hair to a tangled mess. Tony had refused to let him ride through the city since he doubted his license from 1937 was still withstanding. Mentioning the genius, Bucky should point out the best part of his little joy ride. The genius's arms were wrapped firmly around his waist, his face pressed into Bucky's shoulder. The man at the front of the bike could actually feel his shit eating grin pressed against him, while those warm brown eyes he knew so well were peeking over to admire the scenery. 

As they flew down a steep hill, Bucky couldn't help it when the joy and exhilaration built up and escaped him in a loud crow of joy. It didn't matter, no one was startled apart from the beautiful genius pressed against him and a few offended ravens. The still sleepy sun made a concerted effort to warm the early Spring air for them, and for once, _for once_ , everything seemed just perfect. 

After maybe thirty minutes, Bucky swerved to a stop on the edge of a hilltop that curved upwards, sliding off and offering the billionaire a hand. They slumped down on the edge of the barrierless pathway, legs dangling and sipping the beers Bucky had shoved into the gun holsters. Never let it be said he wasn't created. 

"You make me feel like I belong in the future. In the present. Like nothing in my past can fucking touch me." Bucky admitted, his voice making a ripple in the smooth waters of comfortable silence. More like a splash actually, he never knew how to say these things. But what he did know, was that he had to get Tony to understand what he meant to him. 

Tony's voice followed, with an effortless grace, like a diver. "That's because you do belong here, Buckaroo. With Stevie, with the team and a real home. It's where you're meant to be." 

"With you. I -" Bucky's throat caught, but he persevered, "I belong with you." 

He had finally succeeded in making a flush break out over that pretty face of Tony's then. There was a fumble, a desperate kind of search which is what it had been really, and then their hands were linked, shaky and too tight and perfect - interwoven as closely as their hearts. 

Bucky was unsure if this was it. The shift between friend and something more that he'd been longing for. "You never..." He started, brow creasing. 

"You didn't need a lover, Buck. You needed someone who was there for you, a friend. But the way you were on that motorbike. It was finally what I'd been waiting for. You, completely unburdened. I knew that I could have you then. That I can have you now, like this." The engineer squeezed his hand, sipping his drink, the vulnerability in his eyes betraying his calm voice. "If, for some crazy reason, you want me." He added softly. 

Bucky took a sharp inhale of breath, knowing that never, _never_ would he possess the knowledge as to just quite how it was possible that the most brilliant, and not perfect, but heart-achingly, jaw-droppingly, mind-blowingly beautiful man on the planet could doubt that Bucky was anything short of... Well, a little in love with him. "I'll always want you. I'll always be your Bucky." He reassured his lover, the words falling so easily from his lips as if they had been there a thousand times. 

He caught the way Tony looked up, seemingly in shock, but it was quickly hidden. Maybe the assassin would have focused on it if he hadn't been distracted by the sudden realisation that he didn't just have to contemplate how kissable Tony's lips looked. He could actually kiss them - and the other man would probably let him! Leaning close, he caught the way that those lips parted ever so slightly, how Tony's whole body leant closer to his as if they were pulled by an invisible string. 

And then. And then, and then, and then they were kissing. It was soft and sweet; it was everything Bucky wanted from their first kiss. Tony tasted like coffee, Nutella and fucking happiness. He could do this for the rest of his life and not for a second be dissatisfied. Unfortunately, Tony was a normal human and needed stupid things like _air_ (totally ridiculous), so they pulled away. 

"I've been waiting for a month and a half." Tony hummed happily, leaning back so he was lying flat on the grass, "and it was totally fucking worth it." He added, a smug smile on his face. 

"Yeah?" Bucky questioned teasingly, leaning over so that he was hovering above that teasing little smirk, "What would you do for another one?"   
*

By the time they made it back to the Tower, several hours later and positively drunk off of one another, it seemed like nothing could go wrong. 

Of course, the universe fucking hated him, so when they stumbled into the kitchen to make pancakes and make out on the kitchen table, Steve was sat there like a Dad who just caught his drunk teenager sneaking in after curfew. 

He instantly noticed something was extremely fucking wrong when Tony wrenched his hand away like Bucky was a leper, face pale and tight. "Where did you get those, Steve?" The genius was staring at the bundle of letters - _the_ bundle of letters! - like he could set it alight with the sheer force of his glare. 

"You need to give those to me right now and we're going to walk out of this kitchen and act like -"

"How could you, Tony? How could you keep that from me? From Bucky?" Steve sat there, sounding so wounded. Barnes didn't miss the flicker of raw pain in Tony's expression. 

"What was I supposed to say, Steve? Oh hey, need some help looking for your old pal? Y'know, I and he go way back to when we were fucking penpals. Oh yeah, he tried to fucking choke me to death once but that's not really a big -"

"Don't bullshit your way out of this Tony, I could have understood! You could have trusted me!" Steve yelled back, glaring fiercely. 

Angry, hurt and confused, Bucky started to panic. "What the fuck are you guys talking about?" He yelled loudly, causing Steve and Tony to fall silent and swallow nervously. After a brief argument, somehow taking place entirely in aggressive eye contact, Steve and Tony came to a conclusion. 

"Buck, Buckaroo, Red October, the light of my life, please sit down. I have something to talk to you about. And you're gonna be angry, you're gonna be upset. I understand if you want nothing to do with me after, okay?" The assassin curled in on himself, the pain in Tony's voice making him just as nervous as the genius himself. 

"Spit it out." It came out rougher than he intended, but he was terrified. Steve and Tony argued all day, every day, but never had he seen them like this. Holding his hand out for the letters, which Steve reluctantly relinquished, Tony sat down opposite him and collected his thoughts. 

"It all started when I was seven years old. I adored the Captain America comics. Some people even thought that I had a crush on Cap, which was fucking ridiculous. As if it weren't obvious, it was all about Bucky Barnes. All about you..." Bucky sat perfectly still as the story unravelled. He listened to how Tony needed him, and there he was. About how he always wrote back. `How he said he would always be his Bucky." 

The soldier was hurt that Tony had never told him, it would have been nice to have a piece of his past. Maybe Tony didn't trust him with that secret. Was he just embarrassed about all the crap he wrote as a little kid? Surely he knew Bucky would never really judge him on that. He would find it adorable, actually. 

Suddenly, there was a change in the mood and with a stomach dropping feeling, he realised that wasn't what Tony had been dreading to tell him. "And then - and then, I saw you again. No, not you, never you. I happened across the Winter Soldier."

All the blood drained from Bucky's face. 

"Please tell me I didn't - If I hurt you..." He felt a sob building up inside him as he watched the most heartbroken expression Bucky had ever seen on a man happen across his new lover's face. 

"The _Winter Soldier_ had a mission. To kill my parents and me. He killed them and then dragged me out of the car. He was meant to, but he couldn't. It must have been what I said. But he didn't, Bucky, I'm safe."

It didn't help. Bucky hid his face in his arms as sobs wracked his whole body. Could nothing be untarnished by his disgusting past? Was this God's way of telling Bucky that he didn't deserve a happy ending? The guilt was clawing its way inside of him, threatening to tear him apart. He had hurt him, in a way so horrific it was unimaginable. 

"I knew this would happen." Tony spat, glaring at Steve. 

"What, you were just going to keep secrets?" 

Burning with anger, Tony rounded on him. "What? You filthy hypocrite, Steve Rogers. You're telling me you didn't know what Winter did? And you thought I didn't know what happened to my parents. Official reports say I wasn't there that night. You thought you were keeping that from me and you have the guts to lecture me about keeping secrets?!" Tony screamed, and Steve looked appropriately sick with himself. 

There was so much pain in the room, so much anger. It was like a tsunami. A wave just hitting Bucky over and over and over until it was drowning him and he couldn't fucking breathe and he was going to die and maybe it was a good thing and - There was a hand on his shoulder, one soothing his hair, a voice that he loved begging softly for him to just breathe with him. Finally calming down from his panic attack, both Steve and Tony looked guilty about their words. 

"I think that you deserve to read these." Tony pressed the faded yellow bundle into his hand and stepped away to give him some space. Bucky managed to nod and stand shakily. 

"Bucky," The soldier knew both Steve and Tony had so much to resolve, but they put on a united front for him, "If you feel like doing anything stupid, you have to come to us. We can help you. We love you." 

Feeling like he was underwater, Bucky walked numbly to the elevator which took him to his floor. Robotic movements took him to sit on the edge of the bed. 

It took five minutes of deep breathing to work up the courage to open the first letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, before you stab me this was GONNA be fluffy and the end of everything, I swear!   
> But then this genius, JProxy, gave me the idea for this drama and how could I resist?  
> I hope you guys aren't sick of this already, but I can promise a happy ending if you guys wanna stick around.   
> Comments are literally everything to me when I write, so please feel free to yell at me down below and tell me what you think!  
> L :)


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things come to an end.  
> (also if you can't feel me fucking glaring at MCU Steve like HINT HINT than I didn't write this well enough).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rip, we finally got here, the last chapter. Thanks if you stuck around to read this!

Bucky laid on his back. The cold, hard tile of his bathroom floor was unforgiving on his back as he pinged the elastic band around his wrist over and over. The letters, each word read, lay on his bed. 

_But the house is very big and very cold and I think it would be much warmer with a Bucky. So maybe if there is any, tiny bit of spare time that you have, I could borrow you a little bit?_

His mind was reeling with the fact that all of this had occurred and he hadn't remembered a second of it all this time. That Tony hadn't wanted him to remember all this time. 

 

Reading through them had given him flashes of memory. His own slanted messy handwriting being scrawled along the page. Begging with the nice dame at the desk to just send 'one more letter'. 

_I got the new issue of Cap today! You were super cool going "pow!" and shooting up all the bad guys. It makes me sad, though, I hope nobody pows my Bucky._

The small piece of sunlight that was trapped in the kid's letters could illuminate even the darkest of lights for a troubled soldier, Bucky remembered this now. He remembered what Tony had written to him, even if that paper was little more than ash now. 

_I know that you're a hero, but sometimes you must get scared. I would be. Don't be scared to be scared, that's what I think. Good luck with your adventure today!_

That should have been the last letter. It arrived on the day Bucky fell. But it wasn't. It wouldn't have been so bad if there hadn't been one last letter behind his own in much neater, smaller handwriting tucked at the back. Hiding. 

_Dear Bucky,_

_I never thought I'd write another one of these stupid things, but here we go. I saw you today. Well, I don't think it was you actually. Nobody should have more coldness in their eyes than the Arctic._  
_I watched as you killed my Father. I saw you kill my Mother. I do not know why you did this. These are facts. I like facts. You would know, I've written you enough. Because facts are true and you do not have to write facts with passion and let the world know how you feel. Another fact is this; I will find you James Buchanan Barnes._  
_Not today, perhaps. Today I drink and cry and scream into the darkness like a coward. But one day. And I will find out what happened that night._  
_I also wonder why you let me go. You know, out of all the things you did I hate you most for that. I wish you had choked me right then. I deserved it much more than my Mother did, but you had to give me a greater torture. I have to pick up the pieces of my broken, useless life and drag on every day until I die._  
_I don't like that fact, I suppose._  
_I have no address to send this letter to. That renders it utterly useless, of course, but when I find you, maybe you'll end up reading it. Until the day bastardous fate reunites us, then, my Bucky Barnes. Who knows what will happen? Maybe I'll just shoot you on the spot. Maybe I'll just forgive you._

And then, in a twisted little parallel, 'love' had been crossed out and replaced by 'from' and then _Tony Stark_. 

Bucky felt like he had been frozen again. It was the same deep-set ache in his bones. The pure pain in his chest and the strain in his head. The same feeling of wishing that anything could happen apart from this. He wanted death. He wanted everything to stop, stop, _stop._ Please. 

He curled in himself and sobbed. 

*

"No raised voices. We're discussing this like adults." Steve and Tony agreed, sitting tensely across from one another. 

"So, do you want to kindly explain what the fuck you were doing going through my shit?" Tony gritted out, his hands gripping his coffee mug so hard it was threatening to smash. 

"I was looking for a screwdriver and you weren't here. I saw the letters and recognised Bucky's handwriting and..."

"And thought, oh yeah, that's totally my fucking business?" Tony demanded, eyes fiery and voice accusatory. 

Steve visibly winced. ( _Good,_ The genius thought in spite), "What I did was very wrong. I'm sorry, Tony. That was a huge invasion of privacy. It doesn't excuse what I did, but I'm so worried about Bucky and how he's recovering that sometimes that blinds my judgement and makes me unnerved when I don't know everything that's going on. It's something I obviously need to work on, but I hope this, at least, explains my actions, and that you can forgive me." Steve's ears were red with shame and his cheeks were burning and he radiated pure honesty. 

This, Tony thought, is why Steve was Captain America. Because he wasn't perfect. but he was a man that could turn around and kick himself and apologise right away. Who wanted to make a better future and learn from mistakes they made. Letting out a deep breath, Tony spoke next. 

"I'm sorry for not telling you. It was stupid and I was embarrassed by what I wrote, even if I didn't have my own letters, but they held no information that you didn't already know or were relevant. Due to my unwillingness to face my past, I caused a rift and left a lie that I knew would come to light eventually and could've been handled with grace at an earlier time. I accept your reasoning for going through my things and will try and work on the forgiveness thing, but I'm still fucking pissed. How can you preach honesty and think you were keeping from me how my parents died? How could you do that to me?"

Head down, Tony watched the tears fall from the bigger man's face and stain the table. Only then did he realise that the stinging in his own eyes were tears threatening to spill over. 

"I thought I was protecting you, I-"

"Protecting me?! How dare you-"

"I was wrong!" Steve screamed at him, (there goes that agreement). The Captain stood there, breathing hard, eyes desperate and full of pain. "I was wrong." He whispered this time, and Tony was calm enough, at last, to hear that the anger in his words was directed at Steve's self. 

"We're all wrong about a lot of things. Take it from the guy who's made the most mistakes, it's not easy. But we drag ourselves up on our knees and we fucking fix it, Steve. We plaster it and kiss it better and the most important part is we say to ourselves, 'this shit won't happen again'." Tony hissed, taking Steve's hand and squeezing so hard it might even have managed to be painful. 

A tear rolled down his cheek. 

"We're gonna fucking fix it, Steve."

Silence. 

"It's your line, Steve, you say it best." 

Quiet, cracked and weak, Steve Rogers looked him in the eye and said, "Together." 

*

It was surprising how fast an issue could be solved when all participants were working together. With the three of them all contributing and being (albeit painfully) honest, things started to build back up. Hopefully, even stronger, than before. 

Bucky reacted exactly how Tony had expected, drawing away from the man who was pretty irrevocably in love with him out of fear and self-hatred. The genius came up with a very simple plan to make it clear to Bucky that the whole shit-show had done nothing to change his feelings by using the same method as when they first met. 

First of all, he staked out the kitchen until Bucky came sneaking in to find comfort food and jumped to his feet. "Bucky! Stay." He ordered, causing the other man to freeze completely, face screaming disappointment and acceptance. "What was the first rule of this house, huh? No self-deprecating bullshit." He reminded him, and a spark of hope entered the dark-haired soldier's eyes. 

"Unless it's from you." He finished, lips twitching. 

"Smart guy." Tony teased, "Bucky if I had known this whole time, why would you finding out change how I feel? I've come to terms with the fact that the man I lo- would like to date's body was used for something horrific and moved on. I want to apologise for not telling you about all that stuff. I was embarrassed, and the longer I put it off the more it snowballed into something I was more and more afraid of." Like approaching a scared animal, Tony very slowly slipped closer. "I was scared of this. How you would blame yourself." The billionaire swallowed, aware of how many times he'd said 'I'. Maybe just once more. "I was scared of losing you." 

Bucky hesitated for a long time, before he leant over to press a clumsy, forceful kiss onto Tony's cheek, grabbed a plum and fled the kitchen. Progress. 

The next stage of his recovery plan was to prove to Bucky with actions as well as words that he still cared for him. After leaving him for a few days to give him space, Steve and Tony (both still in a very tentative stage of their friendship), started doing their best to integrate Bucky back into his daily routine. The gym, breakfast, movie nights. At every opportunity, Tony carefully but obviously inserted himself into Bucky's space. 

Sauntering in late (as always) for movie night, he spotted Bucky curled up alone and tucked himself right up next to the assassin. The next week he was sat on the floor in front of him, leaning against his legs. One memorable week, Tony said 'fuck it' and made himself comfortable on Bucky's lap. Though fun, he doubted he could get away with it since Clint complained about being now deaf and blind, and Steve took him aside to give him that little talk about being appropriate in front of the rest of the team. 

At breakfast, Tony stole Bucky's coffee, 'for a taste' or teased Bucky for reading a paper news article (the utter heathen). And slowly but surely, Bucky allowed it more and more. On movie night, he began to wrap his arm around the genius's waist and pull him closer. Tony's favourite breakthrough so far had been the morning where he'd stolen Bucky's Americano and the soldier had stood up with a smirk, pushed the shorter man against the kitchen counter and fucking ravished his mouth before pulling away and saying, "Hm, I prefer my coffee this way." 

Well, then. If Bucky wanted to play _that_ game. 

There was no dramatic ending or perfect resolution. But day by day, the incident faded further and further into the past. Bucky may or may not have been keeping the frankly adorable letters from little Tony in his bedside drawer, but they seemed less important now that he had the real thing. 

He didn't know why he was surprised when on a Friday evening, Tony knocked on his door dressed to the nines (and God, wasn't Bucky reminded how unfairly gorgeous his sort-of boyfriend was) and asked him if he'd go out to dinner. They took the bike to a place that was not at all what Bucky was expecting. There was no fancy restaurant where a fucking leaf set you back a hundred bucks, just a little diner that felt familiar. "Thought you might like this a little better. Y'know, it was around in the forties actually. Might make you a little more comfortable." 

Bucky was so in love with this man it hurt. 

After the meal came dancing, and though Bucky was more than a little out of practice, with Tony's downright sinful hips pressed against his own, he didn't find himself in much of a position to care. After that, it was a blur of laughter and music, of getting onto that bike and having to ride with the billionaire murmuring filthy things into his ear. There were whispered 'I love you's and where did his shirt go again? 

When he woke up the next morning with a weight piled onto his chest, Bucky knew that this was exactly where he belonged. 

The craziest part was, things kept going uphill. About two weeks after their first time, Bucky was finally, _finally_ allowed out on his first mission, the easiest battle they could pick, fighting a couple of rusty doom bots. The battle was easy, not getting jealous over the hug-and-fly that Steve and Tony did was harder. Still, it made his heart feel complete that the two had pretty much repaired their friendship and were now back to bickering about trivial shit like how lasagna was better in the future. 

His life was fucking absurd. But he loved it. 

Not only that, Bucky was now collecting a new bundle of letters. At least once a week, he would find one from Tony (except that one week he had stolen Tony's coffee doughnut and the other had been unbelievably petty about it), laying on their bed. The ex-assassin kept wondering when the genius was going to run out of things to talk about in these love letters, but he never did. 

They were made a home in his drawer, wrapped up in red ribbon by the bundle of his own ones tied in string. If he had to pick a favourite, the answer was obvious. 

Curled up on their vast bed, Bucky had one hand holding up his book (he still had catching up to do after all), and the other hand in his boyfriend's hair - who was honest to God _purring_ as he handled SI business on his tablet. 

"Hey, Tony?" He took the grunt he got as a confirmation that he was listening. 

"I'll always be your Bucky, doll." There was a brief pause before he was attacked by 5"9 of cuteness. 

"I want you to know that I'm a lying, liar who lies and it's not borrowing you because I'm never giving you back," Tony mumbled between frantic kisses, tablet laying discarded. 

That sounded a lot like a promise of forever to Bucky, so with happiness brimming in his heart, and love clear in his eyes, he thanked 'basterdous fate', as Tony would call it, for letting him have a happy ending. 

You'd think he earned it, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I wrote that last line because I feel that one of the most important things being with Tony would helo Bucky with is his self-worth, and now he finally feels like he deserves to be happy and isn't that what we all want for our faves??  
> A huge thank you to all of you guys if you read this, please, please tell me what you think in the comments below because it's comments that give me the inspiration to write!  
> If you have any prompts etc that you want written, drop them below and I'll have a go at those for you.  
> ONE LAST THING, I might do some more fics with Love Letters as the theme! Please tell me if you're interested and what ships you'd like to see!  
> Sorry for these long ass notes,  
> L.

**Author's Note:**

> Half of me wants to leave this because I'm a bitch but the other half is like WHERE'S THE NEXT CHAPTER AT HOE  
> Please, please tell me what you think and if you want more of this below! There's nothing I love more than comments.  
> L.


End file.
